


Welcome Back, Mollymauk.

by Half_Of_A_Lie



Series: Resurrection? Piece of cake. [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: "That's nice.", Another Molly resurrection fic that no one asked for, But they're somewhere else, Caduceus Clay / Mollymauk Tealeaf if you squint, Everyone Is Alive, Hearing Voices, How Do I Tag, I'll write a follow up to this if I have enough requests, I'm Bad At Titles, I'm a multi-shipper so feel free to request ships, M/M, Mighty Nein as Family, Mollymauk Tealeaf Has Feelings, One Shot, Other, POV Mollymauk Tealeaf, Resurrection, dead people tea, for now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-12 02:23:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20126821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Half_Of_A_Lie/pseuds/Half_Of_A_Lie
Summary: Another shitty resurrection fic featuring Mollymauk that no one asked for. I wrote 1000 words at 2 am this morning and the rest like.. half an hour ago. I'm gonna go take a nap now. Enjoy!





	Welcome Back, Mollymauk.

**Author's Note:**

> UPDATE 09-18-19 // After much thought, I'll be posting a continuation of this, simply because I've spent time writing it out and don't want it to go to waste. I'm not sure when it'll be up, but hopefully sometime soon.

Needless to say, Mollymauk was less than excited to be in an all too familiar position for the second time in his life that he could remember. 

Hunched over on the ground, digging his nails into the mud as his stomach lurched and the world around him swayed. He struggled viciously to keep from getting sick as he slowly lifted his head to let his gaze flick around. 

Trees. The sky. Muddy ground. The blooms on the tree branches told him it was approaching spring. But when? How long had he been out for? 

He blinked. 

It was winter. He remembered the cold sting of the wind and the snow that drifted and stuck to his hair, his skin, his eyelashes. He remembered the burn of his chapped lips as he pulled them apart to speak. The sound of metal scraping against leather as he withdrew his swords. The quick beat of his footsteps against grass, then rock, then wood. Vaulting over the wagon and coming face to face with.. 

Molly gagged then, slapping a hand over his mouth and swallowing what little saliva he'd gathered in his mouth to soothe his aching, burning throat. 

*No. Better not reminisce now. I have things to do.* 

Molly knew that standing on his own would be an absolute nightmare. It just wouldn't work. His knees would buckle and he'd end up right back onto the ground with very little energy left to do much else other than lay there and pray that someone would come along. 

Anyone. 

*Your friends.* The voice in his head spoke, one of which he quickly mentally swatted away. 

"Fuck off. They're probably gone by now. Can't do anything about that. As soon as I get up, I'll be fine. I'll find a town or something." 

This time the voice stayed quiet. And Molly wasn't sure if he felt relieved or distressed. But no matter. 

He had other things to worry about. Like finding a fucking way to stand up. 

*Good luck with that.* The voice spoke again, and Molly narrowed his eyes in annoyance. 

"Bug off. I mean it. I don't have time for you and your sarcasm." 

Not waiting for a reply, Molly let his hand scratch along the surface of the ground until he found a surface - rock? Hard tree? - to grasp onto and tug himself towards. 

He pulled himself to the handhold, which he then discovered was in fact a rock with an odd sort of plant growing shyly on one side, using it to push himself up. And with as much grace as the newly alive again Tiefling could muster, he stood. 

His legs were shaky, just as he supposed they'd be, and his feet were awkward in their position on the ground. Nonetheless, he took a moment to let his body adjust to the new position before he attempted a simple step forward. 

Upon succeeding, he gave a tiny smirk to the voice in his head. 

*Suck it, Voice.* He snickered to himself, tail curling in delight as he leaned into the next step he was taking. 

*Look. I'm doing it. Walking. By myself. Without any hel-* 

"FUCK!" 

His foot caught under a root, and Molly was sent tumbling, sprawling out onto the ground like a simple feather drifting in the wind. He was sure he looked like an absolute mess. 

But with no one else around, he could make as many mistakes as he wanted to. And nobody would ever witness them. 

"You look like you could use some help." A low, bassy voice murmured from just a few feet away. 

And Molly cursed himself for jinxing every situation he'd been in so far. 

".. I think I'm fine, thanks." 

To his surprise, the voice just chuckled, and he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. 

*Heavy. But not disrespectfully so. Seems like whoever this is is balancing their weight, as if trying not to crush the grass. Maybe some kind of hippie or nature worshipper or-* 

"If you're done making mental notes about me, perhaps I could help you up? And introduce myself." 

Molly nearly screamed. 

He'd been so wrapped up in thinking to himself, he hadn't noticed how close the figure had gotten, or even the hand they'd extended in his direction as they crouched before him, heels digging slightly into the mud. 

"Uh.. Right. Yeah. Thanks." 

He took the outstretched hand, taking a moment as the figure pulled him - very strongly, he noticed - to his feet, keeping a hand on his shoulder to steady him. 

He wasn't surprised to see a tall, grey skinned Firbolg leaning over him. He wasn't surprised by the shock of pink hair that swept past their shoulders, or the pink fuzz sprinkled sparsely over their chin. Or even by the strange magenta eyes that peered at him. 

What did surprise Mollymauk was the way those eyes seemed to look right through him. Reading him like an open book. Staring straight into his soul, if he even had one. 

It unnerved Molly that someone could be so keenly observant of anyone they'd just met. And it seemed unlikely that this Firbolg ever got out much. 

It didn't occur to Molly that he was staring openly at the Firbolg until they quietly cleared their throat, one eyebrow just ever so slightly raised. A silent question. 

One Molly didn't have an answer to. 

"Sorry. I just.. I don't know you? I find new people interesting." 

He facepalmed inwardly at his decidedly stupid reply. 

But thankfully the Firbolg cracked a smile, even sharing a small chortle that Molly quickly thought of as one of his favourite laughs, among others. 

"Lucky for you, so do I. I'm Caduceus Clay. And you're not supposed to be alive." 

Molly felt the blood in his face drain away at Caduceus' words. 

"Despite this not being the first time someone has told me that, it still manages to freak me out. Imagine that." 

Molly scoffed as well as he could, attempting to ignore the pitying look in the Firbolg's eyes. 

“You don’t have to look at me like that.” 

Caduceus blinked once, slowly, his expression changing on a very miniscule scale. 

“Look at you like what?” 

*Like you pity me. Like I’m some broken doll for all the world to ogle.* 

Instead of speaking his mind, Mollymauk settled for hissing out a breath between his teeth and shaking his head in slight surrender. 

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it, Mister Clay.”   
  
The Firbolg’s lips twitched up in the semblance of a smile, as if he were so pleased with what Molly had said. 

*This guy has more than a few screws loose, I’m sure.* The voice in Molly’s head commented snidely, and Molly found himself agreeing, much to his surprise. 

“Mister Clay.” Caduceus reiterated, giving a short but hearty laugh. “Been a long time since that one. Nowadays most just call me Caduceus, among other things.” 

“Look, that’s wonderful and all but I really do have somewhere to be. I’m not exactly sure where yet but uh, y’know, might as well get goin…- Mister Clay?” 

Only about halfway through his speech did Mollymauk notice that the Firbolg had effectively started staring off into space towards a spot in the distance just passed Molly’s shoulder. 

Molly frowned, waving a hand in front of the spaced out Firbolg’s face, only to be greeted by the same blank stare and a rather harsh grip on his shoulder. 

“Ow, ow- Okay, wow. You look soft but Gods above does that hurt. Mister Clay- you can let go of my shoulder now, please. Clay? Hellooooo?”    
  
He snapped in front of Caduceus’ face, who automatically recoiled, blinking his big magenta eyes and looking down towards Molly, who was not very ecstatic about the whole situation. 

“Oh-! My apologies.” His grip on the Tiefling’s shoulder lessened, but to Molly’s surprise, he didn’t let go. 

*Does he lack the knowledge of social cues or something? You told him to let go.* 

Molly allowed his tail one simple angry lash. At what, though, he couldn’t be certain. 

“Mister Clay. My shoulder, if you please.” 

“Right, yeah, of course. Sorry.” The Firbolg dropped his hand, and Molly finally realized how fucking cold he was when the large, fuzzy appendage was removed from his shoulder.

Wrapping his arms around himself, he glanced around the area for any sort of warmth that didn’t radiate from the strange Firbolg in front of him. He was surprised to spot, a few moments later, his tapestry and a few other knick knacks that he’d had on his person. 

He scurried over to his grave, ever aware of Caduceus’ gaze on his form as he took the tapestry - torn and weathered from time spent in direct brunt of Mother Nature’s forces, and having lost quite a bit of it’s usual sheen - and slid his arms into the sleeves, a sort of weight lifting off his shoulders when he felt the familiar fabric drape around him. 

“Oh, how I’ve missed you. At least, I think I have. First thing we’ll do when we get to a town or something is pay to have you fixed up.” 

Molly also made sure to grab what he could from his grave and pocket it, taking a moment to run a hand through his hair and wince at the way his fingers tangled in the now matted ropes. 

“..And maybe a hairbrush.” 

The Tiefling looked back over to Caduceus, somewhat surprised to find the Firbolg still waiting there. And as if sensing he were looking, Caduceus tossed a patient look towards Molly, just ever so slightly inclining his head in question. 

“Are you ready to go, then?” He questioned, causing Molly to frown for what felt like the hundredth time that day so far. 

“Go where?” 

“A town. I’m going to escort you there.” 

Before Molly could open his mouth to protest, the Firbolg lifted a hand to silence him. 

“And no, I’m not going to let you reject. I assume you have very little to no gold to spend on a room, or food, or repairs to your coat and other things you’d like.So allow me, I insist.” 

Molly was stewing by then, partially because the Firbolg had quieted him so easily and also partially because of how absolutely correct the odd stranger was. He’d already checked his pockets and such for any sort of gold, and had come up with nothing. 

“..Fine. But that doesn’t mean I’ll be happy about it. And once I get enough coin, I’m going to pay you back in full, with interest.” 

Molly half expected the Firbolg to reject. But instead he nodded his head, strings of pink hair falling into his face and tangling with his eyelashes. 

He’d actually be fairly attractive, if it weren’t for the annoying factor that he seemed to know way too much about Molly for the Tiefling’s liking. 

“That’s fair, I suppose. Now, to the town?”   
  
It was Molly’s turn to nod, tail twitching and fingers curling into the fabric of his tapestry as he did so. 

Caduceus turned to leave, picking his way rather gracefully down the hill Molly’s grave was placed upon. 

“Oh, and one more thing.” the Firbolg hummed, staff clicking on the various loose stones and pebbles as he walked. 

“Welcome back, Mollymauk.” 


End file.
